


show me my silver lining

by CassandrasDreamworld



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Character Study, Coming Out, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Introspection, Mentioned Dysphoria - Non Explicit, Mentioned Magical Transitioning, Mentioned Transitioning, Mentioned Transphobia in one Paragraph - Non Explicit, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Soft Jaskier | Dandelion, Trans Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Trans Jaskier | Dandelion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:06:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29109021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CassandrasDreamworld/pseuds/CassandrasDreamworld
Summary: On a quite night, before the crackling fire Geralt and Jaskier have come to rest.  There has been something quite heavy weighing on Geralt for the past few days and has been especially noticeable today, Jaskier wants to get to the bottom of it whatever has her love distraught like this.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 34
Kudos: 83
Collections: The Witcher Quick Fic #05





	show me my silver lining

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you like this story.
> 
> Also- most of the tags are to cover all my bases but are only a footnote in the story. Nonetheless I mentioned them if you're not comfortable to read them, minor as they are.

The sound of the crackling fire curls through the cool night air is the only thing that can be heard, branches snapping from the heat and sending a rain of sparks towards the sky.

Jaskier has her knees drawn up to her chest and watches Geralt, who in turn stares into the flames. He looks entranced, even though she knows the light must hurt his eyes. 

They’ve sat in silence like this since they set up their camp in the woods, far from any kind of civilization. Something has been nagging Geralt for a while now, and it seems especially prominent today. He’s been quiet for one- less in his normal way of being quiet and more of a stuck-in-his-own-head quiet.

She has been trying to give him space, and be a bit quieter as well. She knows how fast he can spiral when he’s like this, and that his first response is often to lash out. He’s not really in tune with his emotions, a side effect of repressing them for so long and internalizing the propaganda that Witchers don’t have emotions to repress in the first place.

It always makes her sad to think about it, Geralt is  _ good _ even with some of the questionable decisions he’s made in the past. He deserves better from the world, but the world won’t allow that and she hates it.

So yes, although many people would argue against it, she does know when to keep her mouth shut. Geralt going through apparently an emotional crisis is definitely on the list of things that she has to be careful with.

She eyes the flower crowns she’s done in lieu of plucking at her lute with a critical eye. They’re pretty even, though she only did them to occupy her hands. She’s decorated them with everything she could find around the clearing, from the flowers she used at first to some blades of grass, leaves from the trees, and even some flexible branches. 

It itches in her fingers to put the crown on Geralt, he’d look gorgeous- not that he doesn’t look amazing all the time anyway. She could do without the guts and gore sometimes, and the smell too. Monster hunting isn’t a particularly clean business, she knows, but she’s a woman with  _ some _ standards. Not a lot of them, truth be told, but some- cleanliness being one of them.

She also knows that Geralt  _ hates _ being dirty, and that he hates his own smell even if he would never say so. Whenever the possibility of a bath arises he shamelessly uses the opportunity for a long long soak, long enough it prunes even his thick Witcher skin. He heats it to near boiling several times as well and Jaskier can only watch, fascinated.

Not even she is _ that _ obsessed with warm baths, but she also doesn’t get covered in all kinds of gunk all the time either. Sometimes she thinks she can see what Geralt could have been if he hadn’t been made into a Witcher, a rancher maybe, or someone who trains horses. Or maybe a painter, he has a really good eye and she's seen some of his sketches and they’re  _ good _ . If she has the money one day she wants to get him some better supplies, maybe even paints and good paper- Melitele knows he’d never buy them himself.

With a sigh she uncurls herself and scoots a bit closer to Geralt. She knows that Geralt doesn’t like being disturbed when he’s thinking, but it’s getting ridiculous. It isn’t good for him to be this absorbed and caught in his own head for so long, his brain loves to slink into negative thoughts without warning.

“Geralt?” She tries to keep her voice soft and low, but he still jolts like she’s slapped him.

He turns his head so fast that some of his joints crack. He seems confused and tense before he zeroes in on her and relaxes. If he reacted like this it’s worse than she thought, he didn’t even register her approaching. It’s both flattering that he doesn’t see her as a threat,  _ trusts _ her, but also concerning since he’s normally totally aware of his surroundings, conscious or not.

“Are you alright?” She asks then, and watches how he shakes his head and then shrugs.

She slowly reaches her hand out and taps two fingers against his wrist. She waits, and is about to draw back before he unfurls his hand, palm upwards. Her cue that she’s allowed to touch him. Closing in now that she has permission she slides her hand into his and laces their fingers together. “Not a speaking kind of day, love?”

He curls his fingers around hers and then shakes his head again, before making a so-so motion with it. “Only… a bit.” Geralt says slowly, voice rough and scratchy.

“I’m here if you want to try.” She says softly and squeezes his hand, smiling when she feels him squeeze back.

He ducks his head and looks to the side and his hair falls forwards, hiding his face from view. He’s been wearing it open more often lately when he isn’t on a hunt. She hums and leans into him and waits, ready to listen when or  _ if _ he chooses to speak, but otherwise she tries to offer him her silent support.

His voice is hesitant when he starts, “I… Hm.” He takes a deep breath and his grip on her hand tightens marginally. “How- how did you know you were a woman?”

Oh.  _ Oh _ .

She feels like something hit her upside the head and she berates herself for not piecing things together sooner. Nonetheless, it would be wrong of her to make any assumptions, so she tries to keep it neutral for now. 

With another squeeze to his hand she shows that she heard him and that she’s thinking. It isn’t easy to explain, it was certainly not easy to come to the realization either.

“I didn’t always know, for one. I know that some like me have always known, but there are others, like me, who take a while to figure it out.” Jaskier stares into the flames, and tries to put her thoughts into some kind of order. “It started slowly when I was hitting puberty. I was constantly unhappy with my body and how everyone treated me, even though I knew I came from a life of privilege.”

“I didn’t like how my voice kept changing to deeper tones, so I worked with my tutors to keep it in the higher range, and I dreaded when my voice would inevitably crack.”   
  


“My face got sharper and my body leaner and I didn’t like it. I could live with it, sure, and I was aware that I was pretty handsome but it just didn’t sit right with me. I don’t even remember all of it anymore, but it was just little things that piled up and only later fell into the place of a big and confusing puzzle.”

“It was my sister actually, that made me realize it. I don’t know if she guessed it or if she just wanted to have some fun, but she took me to the side and made me pose with a dress she wanted to try to adjust herself without giving it to a tailor. We had a pretty similar frame at the time.”

Jaskier gives a small smile at that, her chest feeling warm, and she leans her head on his shoulder. “After that she also insisted that she put on makeup on me because she had to see which colors would fit the dress best!” She laughs, remembering it- it’s one of her most treasured memories.

“When I looked into the mirror it’s as if I couldn’t breathe, a feeling of  _ right _ so strong surged through me it nearly made my knees buckle. I think I only stared at myself for minutes before I started to cry. I absolutely ruined my sister’s handiwork, but I didn’t care.”

“She was so concerned though, especially when I couldn’t stop sobbing on the floor and then started to laugh. I must have seemed maniacal at the time because my sister rushed off to get our mother.”   
  


“Mother came in, nearly ripping the door from its hinges, with my sister close behind. My mother didn’t comment on the state of me and was only concerned about what made me cry and well- I told her. Now, I know that it could have gone wrong, especially knowing how some others react to me being as I am, and how people like me have told me what they’re families have done.”   
  
“Mine was nothing but supportive though, I couldn’t imagine  _ not  _ telling them. I told my mother that I was a girl right then and there, she said nothing for a while before embracing me and telling me that she loved me just as I was. Later, I found out that my uncle was like me and my mother brought us two together so I could have someone with similar experiences to talk to.”

“We made plans and contacted some mages who could help me be and look how I truly felt, and how I wanted to look. My parents paid for all of it and I couldn’t have been more grateful for my family as I was then. They bullied the staff at Oxenfurt into changing my records and accepting me as I was, lest all hell be rained down upon them.”

“My last surgery, or well magical surgery, was after I graduated and shortly before meeting you.”

She shifts her head and looks over to Geralt, who had returned to staring into the fire while she spoke. 

Geralt doesn’t say anything for a long while, but she knows the look that's on his face. He does this exact expression always when he’s contemplating something or thinking hard, normally only used when he tries to put together clues on a hunt.

She shifts and gets more comfortable, she doesn’t want to rush anything, especially not something like this. After a while he shifts and wakes her out of her dozing state. Jaskier yawns and stretches, her joints popping and slumps back again, squinting at Geralt. The fire is nearly out, and she can only see the vague outline of him in the darkness.

“I don’t think I’m a man.” Geralt says after a while.

Jaskier nods and looks at their entwined hands, laying her other on top of theirs. “Okay.”

At this, Geralt seems to lose some kind of inner tension and rests their head on Jaskier's shoulder, a reverse of their previous position. 

Geralt takes a deep breath and whispers, “I think I'm a woman.”

With a small smile, Jaskier nods and bumps their heads together. “Do you want me to refer to you with she and her if you’re not sure yet? And do you want me to call you something different?”

Geralt nods before she hesitates and says, “I don’t think I want to change my name… It’s mine but… I would try out the pronouns if it doesn’t bother you.”

“I won’t ever bother me, darling.” Jaskier says with a smile, she cups her cheek and kisses her temple. “Thank you for telling me, I am grateful for your trust in me.”

They stay like this for a while, wrapped in each other, foreheads touching. Jaskier is the first one to move and disentangles herself from Geralt, who makes a confused noise in return.   
  
Jaskier shushes her and stands up, quickly gathering the two wreaths she made before plopping down next to Geralt again. She grins and puts one of them on her own head before turning to Geralt. “May I?”

Geralt looks at her with a vulnerable expression across her face and inclines her head, allowing Jaskier to put it on her. With great care Jaskier settles the wreath atop Geralt’s head, and plucks a few strands of hair to fall around her face, framing it beautifully. 

Jaskier dramatically bows as much as she’s able to sitting down and says with pomp, “With this I crown you, Geralt of Rivia, as Queen of my heart.”

She looks up in time to see Geralt looking overwhelmed but also has if she has a revelation, her ears dusted red. Geralt ducks her head and murmurs, “Thank you Jaskier,” Voice thick with emotions.

Jaskier leans forwards and cups Geralt’s face in her hands and kisses her forehead. “You don’t have to thank me, you’re still you and nothing will change that.” She presses another kiss to one of Geralt’s cheeks and then the other, smiling. “I will love you because of  _ you, _ be that you a woman, a man, or neither.”

Geralt chokes and pulls Jaskier towards her, curling her big arm around her and hiding her face in the crook of Jaskier’s neck.

Jaskier hugs back and presses more kisses to every part of Geralt she can reach like this, her neck, behind her ear, her jaw. She ignores how the wreath tickles her and starts to hum a slow melody.

She will try to give Geralt as much support as possible just like she had in the form of  _ her _ family.

The two women sit like this long after the last embers of the fire have burned out, lost in each other.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, please leave a comment if you liked it. 
> 
> Some additional notes:
> 
> Yes, Geralt is a trans woman and they will explore her identity together and maybe options of transitioning or not.
> 
> This verse is a 'everyone is trans' verse, or rather a 'everyone is some kind of queer' verse. Maybe I'll come back to it at a latter time or maybe I don't. Although I do already have some headcanons for other characters- Yennefer is a trans woman, Ciri is a nb lesbian, Lambert is nb/agender, Eskel is a trans man.


End file.
